Newspapers / The Orphans’ Friend (Oxford, … / June 13, 1877, edition 1 / Page 4
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I^BTTIWU TIIR OLD CAT DIT Not long ago I w andered near A play-groiind in the wood, And tliere lieard words from a young ster’s lips Ttiat I never (putc understood. “ Now let the old cat die,” lie laughed J saw him give a push, Then gaily seainiier away as he spied My lace peep over the bush. 3Jnt what he pushed, or where he went, I could not u'ell make out, On account of the thicket of bending boughs That bordered the place about. “ The little villain has stoned a cat Or hung it upon a limb. And left it to die all alone,” I said, “ But I’ll play the mischief with him.” I forced my way between the boughs. The poor old eat to seek, And what did I liud but a swingin, child, “With her briglit hair brushing lier check. Her bright hair floated to and fro, Her little red dress flashed by, But the loveliest thing of all, I thought, ■\Vas the gleam of her laughing eye. ■ Swinging and swaying back and forth ■With the rose-light in her face. She seemed like a bird and a flower in one. And the forest her native iilacc. “ Steady ! I’ll send you up my child,” But .she stopped me with a cry ; “Go’way! go’way ! Don’t touch me. ))iea.sc— I’m letting the old c.at die f” “You. letting him die?” I cried agha,st— “Why, where’s the cat, my dear ?” And lo! the laughter that tilled tlie woods AYas a thing for the birds to hear. “ AVhy, don’t you know,” said the lit tle maid. The flitting, beautiful elf, “ That rve call it ‘letting the old cat die AVhen the swing .stops all of itself ?” Then swinging and swinging and look ing back. With the merriest look in her eye. She b.ade me “Good day,” and I left her alone, A-letting the old cat die. THE CHILD’S WISH. I want Jesus to love me, And take away my .sin. That I may have my heart made now. And purified within. I want Jesns to love me, Because he is so good ; Cares for and watches o’er me, And gives me daily food. I want Jesus to love me More than my parents do: They to the gates of death can go, But Christ can take me through. I want Jesus to love me, Bec.ause I .am so weak, Ami cannot do the thing's I ought, Nor even rightly speak. I want Jesus to love me, And make me fit for heaven ; With .all my wishes fixed on him, And all my sins forgiven. PKATER FOK A LITTEE CHILD. Jesus, I woidd he like thee: Look from lieaveu and pity me: Though so full of sin I am. Make me now thy little lamb. I have very naughty been. Bone those things I knew -was sin, Have not hearkened to thy ivord, When thy loving voice I lieiu'd. But I’m sorry for it now, And before thy throjie I bow; AVash me in that ci'im.soii flooxl t Make me clean in Jesn^ blood. AATien I oft would go astray. Keep me in. the blessed way Let thy love abide hi me, Jesus, then I’ll be like thee. MY MOTHEK'S HANDS. Such beautiful, beautiful hands ! They’re neither white nor small; And y’ou, I know, would scarcely think That they are fair at alL I've looked on hands whose form and line A 8cnli>tov’s dream might be; A’et are tliose aged, wrinkled hands Mure bcaulil'ul to me. ANGRY AND ilGLY. Snell beautiful, beautiful hands! Though heart were weary inul sad, Tliose patient liands kejit toiling on. That tlie cliildren niiglit be glad. I always weep as, looking back To diildliood’s distant day, I think liiiw tliose hand.s rested not, AVhen mine were at their iilay. Such beautiful, beautiful liaiids! Tliey’re growing feeble now, For time and pain have left their mark On hands, and lieart, and brow. Alas! alas! the neai-ing time. And the sad, sad day to me, AVhen ’neath the daisie.s, out of sight, Tiiose hands will folded be. But ob! beyond this .siiadow-land, AA’licre all i.s briglit and fair, I know full well tiiese dear old hand.s AA'ilL palms of victory bear; AATiere crystal streams througli end- le.ss ycar.s Flow oi'er golden .sands. And wlici'e tlie old grow young again I’ll clasp 1115- mother’s hands. RETH Y’OEA’Cl. “ Jlotlier,” said iSielly .Robin son, “I do so love Ruth Young. I ■\Yish I -was like her.” “ Why so f asked her mother. “ Recauso she is so sweet-tem pered ; you never hear her say an unkind or impatient word, and when the other girls make fun of her and treat her unkindly, she answers so gently that I wonder the;y are not ashamed of them selves.” “ I am surprised to hear this, Nelly, for poor Ruth has not been well trained. Her mother died when she was yet an infant, and her father, who was a soldier, went away, and has not since been beard of; ivhile they say she is unkindly treated by Mr. Sims and his wife—indeed I won der they spare her to go to school.” “ A lady pays for her school ing mother; Ruth told me all about it, and how she came to be good-tempered, though she did not call herself that.” ‘ Tell me about it, Nellv.” ‘Oh, yes, mother. Ruth was one day sitting in the school-room diii'ing the play-hour, and, seeing her crying, I -(vent in and asked her what was the matter. Rut instead of telling me, she wiped away her tears, and began talk ing of the work she was doing. However, I was not going to be put off like that, so I said, ‘ Ruth, i do wonder that yon can take things so quietly. ' I know as well as possible that those great girls have been teasing you auain, and i am sui-prlsed that you should put up with it, that I am.’ “ TIusli !’ said Ruth, ‘do not speak ill that way; if you only knew how passionate and re vengeful I once was, and how little peace it brought me, you would not talk so.’ “ ‘\ou passionate and revenge ful !’ I exclaimed; ‘1 can scarcely believe it.’ “ ‘it is too true,’ she said, while the tears rolled down her poor lace. ‘From a child I can re member none but unkind treat ment from tliose 1 lived with. They neither loved or cared for me ; and my mother being dead, it was my greatest wish to die also. I believe I was a wicked child, for no one taught me to be good, so when. I was called naughty names I gave bad words in return ; and when I was struck, which was pretty often, I used to strike again ; while 1 treasured up wicked and revengeful feel ings in my heart, and acted ujron them as 1 had opportunit'v. One day when Mrs."Sims had well beaten me for some fault, I ran away from her into the rotid, and taking up a sto.ie threw it against her window, and broke a pane of glass; then, frightened at what I had done, I tried to escape from her grasp, when a gentle hand was laid on my shoulder, and a voice exclaimed, ‘ Ruth Young, I am shocked and grieved to see you thus.’ It was Miss Smith, our clergyman’s daugliter, who spoke to me. “ ‘She ha» beaten me,’ I said, sullenly, pointing to the cottage, “and I will be revenged.” “Hush ! not another word,” said Aliss Smith ; then bidding me wait for her, in a tone 1 dared not diso bey, she went into the cottage, and remained for some minutes talking to Mrs. Sims. AVhen she came out she said, “ I am going over the common, you may come with me if you like.” I "gladly went, thinking no more of my fault, but running by her side I picked the wild flowers, and of fered them to her. At lengtli she sat down, and desired me to do the same; and then she said, Ruth, I have been thinking liow I can do you good-—can ■\'ou read ?” “No,” I answered. “6an you tell who made you?” I shook my head ; for altliougii I did know this, 1 did not clioose to answer. Again she asked, “Do you know anything of Jesu,-: ? ’ and again I shook mv head. “ Should 3’ou like to learn to read, Ruth, and to know about God and Jesus Christ?” “ AVho will teach me?” I muttered. “I will,” she answered : “ you shall come to me every day for a little while, and then you shall go to school.” “And what will you teach me?” I asked. “ I will tell you about Jesus, and your first lesson shall he now.” Miss Smith then _ told of the Savior—His lowl}- birth, and wonderful wisdom ; His pa tient, meek bearing, His love for sinners, and how lie went about doing good. And then slie added that “ He was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; He was desjiised, and we esteemed Him not; He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He opened not Ills mouth ;” and lastly that “ Ho was brought as a lanib to the slaughter, and as a sheep be fore her shearers is dumb, so He opened not his mouth.” (Isa. liii.) “ Why was this ?” I asked impa tiently; “why was He treated thus ?” “ For our sakes,” replied Jliss Smith ; “ for your sake as well as mine. He lived, to set ns an cxaiiqilo of meekness and per fect holiness; He died that we miglit have life.” Such was the substance of my first lesson, and it sank so deeply into my heart that when I went home 1 walked straight to Airs, Sims, and begged her to forgive mo, for having bro ken her window. “AA”iiy did x'ou do it !” she asked. “I was angry,” I said, “and wished to be re venged ; but I feel very sorry now, and I hope I shall not be so bad any more.” Airs. Sims looked surprised, but sent me to bed, where I remained long awake thinking upon all Miss Smith liad told me. From that day I went to her regularly, until I came here, which is now nearly two years ago.’ “ ‘ And are you happier at home?’ I asked. “ ‘I cannot help being so,’ she meekly replied, ‘ for 1 know that God loves and cares for me. And somehow Airs. Sims has been much kinder since, and her chil dren are growing up to love me; and who knows, perhaps I mav be the means of teaching them to love the Savior V “ And now, mother,” asked Nelly, “can you ■wonder that I .should wish to be like Ruth Young V—Selected. THE Orphans’ Friend. A LIVE AND LIVELY WEEKLYI OnGAN OF THE OMPHAE WOM.E ENTEETAINING AND IN- STRUCTIVE TO THE YOUNG. A ZEALOfS EEIESD AND ADVOCATE OF EBIJCATIOIY. I’t'iiLisnEt) every avednesday. SUBSCRIPTION AND POSTAGE ONLY OWE DOLLAH A YEAH OFFICE IN THE ORPHAN BUILDING, AT OXFORD. ADVEStXISEJIEIVTS* Ten cents a line fur one insertion. Five cents a tine eacih Aveck ftir more than one and less than twelve insertions. One column^ tliree months, sixty dollars. Half cohiinn, tiiree months, forty dollars, quarter column^ tliree tuOnths, twenty dollars. Present circulation, fourteen hundred ami orty papers eaoh weelw Address ORPHANS’ FRIEND, OXFORD, N. a T. B. T.YoN, JR. K. JJALBY. E. H. LY'ON (Late of Puff'') LYON, DA LRY & CO., MANUFACTURERS OP “ Grandma, do you know why I can see up in the sky so far ?” asked Charlie, a little four-year- old, of the venerable lady ■who sat beside him knitting, “No, my dear: why is it ?” said grand mamma, bending her head, eager to catch and remember the wise saying of the precious little pet. “ Recause there is nothing in the way.” Durhiun, N. C. Orders solicited—Ajients wanted—Tttbacco' guaranteed March i7;.h— I!. A. Hiho.IS & MAXUFACTUEEK.S OP REAMS’ DURHAM BOOT AND SHOE POLISH, Wurrixnted to excel all, otherSf or money Mefiinded. The only Blacking that polish on oiled surface. It is gitaranteed to preserve leather andmalie it pliant, reqiniiiraig less quantity and time to produce a perieet glo&s than any other, the DTRsh to he applied immediately after put tJRg on the Blacking. A perfect glosa from this will not soil even white clothes. We guarantee it as represented, and as for pat ronage, strietly on its merits. H. A. REAMS & CO., Manufacturers, Durham, N. C. This Blacking is recommended in the high est terms, after trial, hv Geo. F. Brown, J. Howard Warner, Isew York; the Pre.^ideuj and Professors of Wake Forest College; and a large number of gentlemen in and around tjurham, whoso certificates have been fur nished the Manufacturers. Orders solicited and iiromptiy filled. March 3rd, ii75.
The Orphans’ Friend (Oxford, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
June 13, 1877, edition 1
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